“You’re not authorized for that information,” Mikodez said after a frozen second.
“I seduced someone on your staff,” Istradez said. “Occasionally there are people who would like to sleep with someone who looks as good as we do. I don’t think they even realized what they’d let slip.”
‘Someone’ could mean more than one someone. He’d have to deal with that later. “That’s very interesting,” Mikodez said, meaning it, “but the answer is no.”
“Hexarch,” Istradez said, in the most formal mode possible, “I understand that it’s a suicide mission.”
“You’ve heard my answer.”
Istradez drew a shuddering breath. “I recognize that my usefulness to you is nearing its end,” he said. “I beg for one last—”
“No, Istradez.”
“I got into the evaluation you had Spirel do,” Istradez said, with remarkably little bitterness. “You’re going to remove me from duty anyway, and then what will I do? Kick around here for the rest of my life? I don’t think so. Let me go, Miki.”
Mikodez knelt and gripped Istradez’s shoulders. “You do understand that ‘suicide mission’ means you don’t come back? Ever?”
“What were you going to do, send one of the others? I’m the best one for the job and you know it. Please, Miki.”
The sincerity blazing out of the familiar eyes shook him.
“I’m your gun, Miki.”
That forced a response out of him. “Don’t,” Mikodez whispered. “Please don’t. You’re no Kel.”
“I’m better than a Kel,” Istradez said. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”
“I’ll think about it,” Mikodez said at last. But they already knew what he had decided.
WHEN MIKODEZ FINISHED reading the report his mathematicians had coughed up, he watered his green onion three hours early. Considering what the rest of his day was liable to be like, he didn’t want to forget.
Something about Cheris’s contact with Jedao had given her the notion to seek a calendar that altered exotic effects so they could only affect the willing. Kel discipline might hold anyway, but the Andan would hate losing enthrallment as a crutch, even though most Andan with any sense knew it was the threat, not the execution, that was their most powerful tool. The Shuos were in the dubiously enviable position of being the only faction that didn’t have a standardized exotic ability; nothing would change for them.
Next Mikodez called Kel Command, emphasizing that he wanted to be connected directly to Tsoro. The wait was longer than usual. Maybe she was being conscientious and using her hair dryer. At last she accepted the call. “Shuos,” she said, deferentially, but without liking. “We understand the matter is urgent?”
“I have a personal warning to convey to you,” Mikodez said, and sent over a databurst. “My analysts believe the Hafn intend a deep strike on the Aerie. You can read the details at your leisure and prepare yourself accordingly.”
The Shuos’s Citadel of Eyes was defended by a variable number of shadowmoths, to say nothing of the weapons installations, but its location was a matter of public record. On the other hand, the Aerie’s security depended partly on secrecy. The Kel were spread thin enough that they didn’t maintain a large force for home defense.
“We need to know how reliable your information is,” Tsoro said.
Mikodez slitted his eyes at her. “If I were having a slow day and felt like fucking with people’s heads for the hell of it, I’d off a few more Shuos children. After all, there’s a large supply of them. No; this information is accurate. The Hafn have already used that unnerving jumping-across-space ability once on the Deuce of Gears. If it doesn’t surprise me that they’d want to use it on the Aerie, it shouldn’t surprise you.”
He hadn’t personally forged that compilation. One of his teams had done the work, but the packet should stand up to the hivemind’s scrutiny. While Tsoro didn’t like him, she believed in his fundamental competence. “Tell me you have a defense swarm hanging around there,” he added.
“Does it matter if we do?” Tsoro asked darkly. “We can’t afford for the Aerie to fall. Your warning is appreciated.”
“Splendid,” Mikodez said with the particular breeziness that he knew irritated her, because she would expect it. “In that case, I’ll leave you to your tedious logistical calculations.” He signed off.
The problem with Cheris’s plan was that it inconveniently involved blowing up Kel Command before Mikodez could, if everyone stuck to the original schedule, stab the other hexarchs in the back. First item: if marking a calendrical reset by getting rid of Kel Command was good, annihilating the other hexarchs at the same time would be even better. Second item: it would be easiest to assassinate the hexarchs if they gathered at a single location. Happily, Nirai Faian’s facility would do the trick. Third item: convincing four hexarchs to change their schedules to match Cheris’s was going to be a lot harder than persuading Cheris to hold off until the pieces were in place. Fourth item: calling her up and telling her what he intended wouldn’t work, even if the idea had a certain appealing simplicity. He had no evidence that she was gullible around Shuos, even if she’d dated a few, and having Jedao rattling around her skull wouldn’t help. So he needed a way to influence her without her realizing it.
Fifth item: nobody had figured out how the hell Cheris intended to destroy the Aerie. It would have been nice if the bugs on the Hierarchy of Feasts had been able to shed any light on this matter, but no such luck. At this point, Mikodez was gambling that Cheris wasn’t crazy, that this wasn’t a bluff, and that some method existed. The crashhawk high general’s faith in her was only circumstantial evidence, but better than nothing.
Sixth item: to do what she was doing, Cheris had to have some kind of intelligence network. It looked like she’d contacted Colonel Ragath at one point, but they hadn’t been able to piece together specifics. Mikodez’s other gamble was that Cheris’s sources would alert her about Kel swarm movements and cause her to revise her timetable. At least, he trusted she wouldn’t risk her swarm against the Aerie and multiple defense swarms if she could afford to wait things out.
And people think I’m untrustworthy and dangerous on account of two cadets, Mikodez thought cynically. But that was it: he made it a point not to get attached to any specific way of doing things. If he saw a better solution and it made sense to switch over, he was only too happy to do so.
The grid was informing Mikodez that the number of people who urgently wanted to talk to him was piling up. He fished in his second drawer until he retrieved the russet leaf-pattern lace scarf he had left off knitting two months ago. Perfect. The only thing people hated seeing more than a Shuos with a gun was a Shuos with knitting needles. As if any sane assassin would take you out with knitting needles if they could do it instead from a nice sheltered balcony with a high-powered rifle.
“All right,” he said, “let’s hear the first one.”
CHERIS AND BREZAN were in Cheris’s lounge, rotating a map of the hexarchate this way and that. Khiruev tried to concentrate on the glowing notations, the swarms with their generals’ emblems, but she could only manage it in start-stop snatches. Neither Cheris nor Brezan wanted her here because she had anything to contribute to matters of strategy or logistics. Rather, the high general was afraid she would topple over dead if left unattended.
“That’s six full swarms,” Cheris was saying. “They must be dreadfully worried.”